


The Monster's Lair

by Alerane



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comfort/Angst, Cute Ending, Established Relationship, Gift Fic, I'm still new to tagging stuff, Light Angst, M/M, New Dangan Ronpa V3 Spoilers, Post-Game(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Virtual Reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:54:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23069566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alerane/pseuds/Alerane
Summary: The game is over, but is it ever really gone? When you come home, the traces lurk, like monsters in the shadows.
Relationships: (in the background) - Relationship, Harukawa Maki/Momota Kaito, Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 102
Collections: SaiOu Winter Exchange 2019





	The Monster's Lair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StarEyedPrince](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarEyedPrince/gifts).



> For the SaiOu Winter Gift Exchange! 
> 
> Post-game VR AU, set a couple years after the end of their season! Hope you like it, Yuli!

The interview today was tiring. Being the man who ended DanganRonpa, you’d think that it would put an end to the media tirade as well, but if anything the number of requests and invitations to speak just kept going up. And “end” itself wasn’t even very accurate or conclusive, given the company was still vying for support. Whether they claimed they were in the right or not, it probably wouldn’t change, regardless of how many interviews he did. Still he went. Sometimes Maki came with him, and they stood as a united front. Himiko disliked making public appearances herself, but even managed a few of the more serious ones. She knew just as much as they did how important it was for the others. Shuichi was always more confident when they were there to back him up. When the words died in his throat, one would jump in and make the point he trailed off with.

The three of them never asked the others to come to interviews. Even if Kaito and Kaede both volunteered more than once to help. They had enough to deal with, with their privacy signed away. All the others who suffered in game deaths also had physical therapy to eat up their time. Coming out of the game unscathed seemed impossible. No, Maki always made sure that Kaito knew they were okay, that this was sidekick business, that the hero deserved a break. She’d gotten so much better at smiling over the past year, working through all the trauma together with them. Kaito had a hard time arguing with her when she was wearing that smile. Plus, Kaito needed to learn to take a step back too. 

No, even if they came to the interviews, the one reporters always wanted to grill was Shuichi. The one who stopped the game. The one who suggested it.  
The ender of DanganRonpa.

Even though they were so wrong.

Walking into the apartment complex’s lobby, finally home from the chill, Shuichi shot off another text, numb fingers tapping away at the screen.

[This time they asked if we were paid by the competition to take the game down from the inside] --  
[Does TDR even have a competitor?? I sure hope not] --

There was barely a second before the reply.

\--[I should have come with you.]

[True, they wouldn't ask you that one, but I’m OK.]--

Shuichi doubted they even could try to ask Maki that one. The question would die on their lips, taken out instantly by her withering glare. But that probably wouldn’t help either.

[Too tired to cook though. Do you guys want to come over & do something tonight? Or does Kaito have another session with physio? Group session was Sunday though, right?]--

The elevator dings, and he stepped in, selecting his floor and waiting. He’s glad no one else is in it, he hasn’t had to meet the neighbours really and has no intention. His only pleasant shared elevator ride was the was a black lab pup out for a walk, and the person with the dog had been a hired dog walker. His floor arrived and the doors opened as his phone buzzed again.

\--[We’re both free tonight, I’ll let him know. He doesn’t get a say in the matter, he needs to get out of the house before I lose him under the mess of plants. He got two more this week.]

Shuichi grinned, and reached in his pocket and approached the door, sending off a last message before pocketing the phone as well.

[For once the sidekicks do the dragging then.] --

A few false starts, a jangle of keys, a click, and the apartment door swung inwards. Shuichi walked in, noticing the lights were all out. Quietly he placed his keys and bag down on the counter of their kitchenette as his eyes adjusted. It didn’t look like anyone was home, but he was sure that there was nothing scheduled today.

“Hello?”

The darkness slowly refined itself into the familiar space. Scattered mail on the floor, unopened. Boxes of half unpacked possessions pushed against the wall. A tight maze of cheap furniture they’d acquired that was quite snugger than planned for the size of the place. It was a single afterall. The crutches by the door told him what he needed to know though.

Sliding his shoes off, Shuichi walked in, leaving the lights off for the time being. The blinds were closed too, so he assumed that darkening their apartment was deliberate. He shed his winter coat finally, tossing it haphazardly on the couch while inspecting the scene. A few empty plastic bottles littered the couch and one rolled away on the floor as his foot nudged it from its spot fallen beneath it as well. With a small huff, Shuichi squinted around in the dark, looking for their waste basket. As he spotted it he remembered they’d used it as a stand for the fern Kaito got them as a house-warming gift by the window. Months ago. No wonder they were drowning in trash. He reached around on the floor through the mess and found an unused plastic take away bag, and began to fill it idly as he looked for more signs of why it was quiet and dark in here. Receipts, wrappers, a paper napkin or two. He paused, however, at the end of their sitting room table as he saw something. Even in the dark the broken ceramic and stain were obvious on the floor.

The mug he had made his cup of coffee in that morning, only to forget here half finished and sitting out to get cold as he left, lay in pieces where it shattered on the floor. Coffee soaked the nearby rug, while still pooling and puddling between there and the table. Shuichi felt a chill run down his spine, backtracking out of the room with new urgency.

“Kokichi?!” He hurried to the bathroom door to turn the knob. It wasn’t locked and flew open. Their clutter inside was all intact. Seemingly unoccupied. Confirming that with a glance in the tub, he spun back around, back out in the apartment. He did a quick check of the closet then finally towards the last unsearched place. The bedroom. 

The door was ajar, and Shuichi stepped into it, darker than the other room, no windows on this side of the apartment. In the bed, there was a lump under the covers, and his shoulders slumped in relief. He stepped carefully past the wheelchair that was waiting near the door, and towards the bed. It was slightly suspicious his shout hadn't woke him with how light a sleeper he was. He reached the bed and went to pat the covers.

Something icy and cold grabbed him by the ankle as he did.

Shuichi yelped and pitched forwards, the trash bag in his other hand tumbling to the ground. He landed on the bed, and the bundle of blankets squashed beneath him, to his surprise. Reaching around he discovered it was just pillows and laundry. Taking a moment to catch his breath, his thoughts were racing back to him with their conclusion. Turning around on the bed where he landed, he swung his head down to peer under the bed. Just barely in the darkness he could make out a pale face turned towards him and a hand creeping right around the edge of the shadow from the mattress. Kokichi was just lying there on his back, as if he were on top of the bed, rather than below it. Shock gave way to confusion.

“Why are you on the floor?”

“Cause I wanna be on the floor. Jeez, Shuichi, it’s not that hard, is it? Do I look like I fell down here?”

Shuichi blinked. No, he didn’t really look like he could have fallen all the way under the bed, that was true. There was no sign of physical distress. Still, that didn’t make it routine. 

“I suppose not. But under the bed?”

Kokichi’s face in the dark stretched into a grin.

“Where monsters live.”  
Shuichi frowned and opened his mouth to object- but Kokichi continued, grabbing for the fallen trash bag and pawing through it.

“Every good monster hides under beds in the dark. And collects trash, so you must have brought me an offering! You know, your face is red! Didn’t know you liked monsters that much, you should have said so! I’d have told you I was one earlier.”

Rolling his eyes Shuichi pulled himself back right side up, before stepping off the bed and dropping to the floor as well, pulling himself under the bed. Kokichi backed up, swatting at him with one of the empty Panta bottles. Undeterred, he stopped only after wedging himself entirely under their bed, face to face with the other man. He could see him watching his face, wielding the bottle in a ready position. The grin wavered, becoming a sharp line as he waited. Eventually, Shuichi was the one to break the silence.

“I thought monsters were supposed to devour anyone who came into their lairs?”  
Shuichi’s face was completely serious, though there was no fear in his question. More of an academic inquiry.

“Only those deemed unworthy.”  
Kokichi’s grin returned, and he bonked Shuichi on the forehead with the empty plastic bludgeon. 

“Well, then you should get to devouring, I am an unworthy boyfriend who leaves his dishes out all over the place carelessly.”

Kokichi broke eye contact, grip tightening on the cap of the bottle. The hand trembled a bit.  
Shuichi didn’t need him to say what happened. It probably fell when he was putting it away. Just a slip, a quiver. It was getting better, sure, but there were good days and bad days. And he knew that it was up to him to notice the bad ones himself. 

The reporters were wrong. Shuichi was never the one that stopped the game. Sure, he and the others had been the last standing, and had seen it through to the end. They did it not knowing what they were shutting down, or even who to expect on the other side. But he had never been the one aiming to stop the game in its tracks. Plenty of others had, Kaede, Kaito, Rantaro and most determinedly, Kokichi. If Kokichi hadn’t tried so hard, they’d probably have run the course until the end without questioning it.

But Shuichi knew that being given credit here was hardly a reward. It was a role saddled with constant prodding, constant examination and criticism. Stuck eternally picking up the pieces of something they’d broken, even if breaking it was for the better. 

Kokichi didn’t need to be picking up the pieces he broke when someone else set it up.  
Whether it was in here or out there. 

Shuichi lightly put a hand on the bottle, halting the shake travelling up it.  
“Well if the monster doesn’t plan to devour me, does he want something else?”

Kokichi opened his mouth but was beaten to the punch as a gurgling sound came from his stomach. The look of betrayal as he glanced down at it made Shuichi snicker. 

“Come on.”

Shuichi scooted back out from underneath, and reached out for his boyfriend’s hand. With a moment of hesitation the bottle was rolled aside. Kokichi took his hand and was hoisted out of the shadow of the bed. He helped him to his feet, and didn’t say a word about the shakiness, though glanced meaningfully at the chair. Kokichi shook his head quickly. They settled for making it slowly but carefully out of the bedroom to the couch, Kokichi flopping down on it. As the lights flicked on he hissed melodramatically.

Shuichi walked back towards the fridge, frowning. They were getting low on groceries. He pulled out his phone, snapped a picture of what they had and sent off a text quickly. 

[Hey Maki, we don’t have much to work with here but going out isn't an option either]--  
[IMG304.jpg attached]--

He closed the fridge door. Kokichi frowned at him puzzled. 

“Well, what am I gonna devour? You said we’d get something else. Shuichi, are you lying? You know that’s my job. Taking advantage of a monster like that,” Kokichi moaned, some energy returning with his story. He crossed his arms and pouted.

Shuichi stepped back over and sat down next to him, and tapped his chin thoughtfully. His cheeks went red under his boyfriend’s scrutiny, but he managed to get the line out with a straight face when he closed his eyes.  
“You know, I’ve changed my mind. You don’t need something else. I’m right here.”

There was silence and stillness, and Shuichi started to think his line backfired. His cheeks heated up more, and he opened his eyes to see a red-faced but grinning Kokichi next to him, waiting. As soon as their eyes met, he pounced, and their lips locked. Shuichi’s lashes fluttered as Kokichi leaned right into his lap, hand on his chest. It was warm and sure, no trembling now. He let his eyes shut once more, and ran his hands along Kokichi’s back. He could feel a nibble tugging at his lip and a yank on his tie to hold him there longer. He didn’t fight it. Let the monster devour as he pleased.

They broke apart long enough for Kokichi to mutter, “That was terrible.”

Shuichi’s phone buzzed in his pocket, but Kokichi’s hands were quicker, snatching it and quickly tapping in his password. He stopped wondering how he kept learning it ages ago. His boyfriend’s face went aghast.

“You invited a filthy hero to the monster’s lair?”

“Wh-” Shuichi began as the phone was thrust in his face. There was a text, accompanied with a picture of the noodle place down the street.

\--[WE’RE ON IT SHUICHI. LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU WANT. OUR TREAT!]

“Kaito’s bringing food! It’s a peace offering.”

“...Fine, I’ll decide if he’s worthy, if he brings something good.” He handed the phone to Shuichi, but didn’t release his tie, playing with the end of it a bit. Keeping him close. Shuichi tapped in their orders, and let the phone slide loose into his pocket, turning his attention to Kokichi once more as he tugged his 'leash'. A little less ‘vicious’ this time.

The phone buzzed again, and both of them looked at it. There was a semi-blurred selfie, of Kaito, his hair tied in a messy ponytail flashing them a grin & thumbs-up along with the takeaway meal containers, and Maki in the driver’s seat eyes on the road instead of the camera. The pair of them glanced around. Kaito wouldn’t mind the mess but… 

“I think we need to get that trash offering back together, even monsters should be better hosts.”


End file.
